The Pathetic Dirty Foursome
by SamN5
Summary: Four completely different personalities. They are pathetic. And Dirty. Without the ability of being a team. Such a mess. Yet how did they manage to survive when they wished to dispatch the other to take charge? The answer is simple. Their aim is common.
1. Changes

**A/N: **Hey there! This idea has been lurking in my head ever since I saw the fourth Transformers movie. Now, I'm going to give it a try within the framework of a drabble challenge. My goal is 15, I really hope I can finish it.  
>The other characters will appear in later updates.<p>

Contains spoilers for Age of Extinction!

Oh, and please note that I'm not fluent in English, I just want to be. Sorry for the mistakes, correction/criticism is always accepted. Don't read it if you don't like. (:

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><p><strong>.: Changes :.<strong>

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><p>He wasn't willing to do it, but the current lineup didn't offer any different solutions. The conditions had changed, and if they couldn't adapt, the same terrible fate others had had to suffer would be waiting for the remainder of their race. That's what he wanted to avoid at all costs. Ever since they lost contact with Prime, all had turned upside down—he felt unable to think clearly, and with this unhealthy way of life, he would be risking his young fellow's being. Who knew what would happen if they stayed together and would be attacked by humans? No, there was no quibble with this decision—better get over with it as soon as possible.<p>

Ratchet, cycling air through his vents, laid his two hands on his young comrade's shoulders and looked deeply into those doubtful optics. "Bee, listen to me carefully! This is not a game but a dreadful danger to us all. If you want to live, you must do as I say, understood?"

Bumblebee's round optics, if possible, widened even more. He surmised what his partner was getting at, and no, he didn't favor it at all.

The medic let out a loud curse in frustration. "_Please_. I'm not going to argue," he said sternly. "We split up. I seek out Optimus, you head straight to the shelter. Your first thing will be to change your alt-mode. You're easily recognizable."

The yellow Autobot shook his helm firmly, his hands clutching Ratchet's upper arms. "_I will never leave you in trouble._" A line of lyrics came over his radio, its morale perfectly expressing the feelings of the young mechanoid. The medic lowered his head pityingly, then muttered something that sounded like 'sorry'. He freed himself from his friend's shaking grasp and without gazing at him, shifted into alt-mode and disappeared in the dark, cold night.

Despite their disagreement, Bumblebee trustingly waited for him in the hideout. But Ratchet never arrived.

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><p><strong>AN:** Reviews are always welcome. (:

_-Sameen_


	2. Running

**A/N: **Hey there! I just want to say thank you for the feedback! (: So, here I am with the second short drabble. It was **very** difficult to translate and I'm sure it still contains mistakes I didn't notice. Criticism and correction are accepted. (Don't like? Don't read.)

I do not own Transformers.

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><p><strong>.: Running :.<strong>

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><p>He found it ridiculous. He—such a superior being, whose capabilities went far beyond an earthly human's—was now forced to flee from them. Although he only needed a few shots in order to easily get the flag of victory. No, instead he was running on a goddamned swampland—where there was no chance to transform—away from a squad that called itself <em>Cemetery Wind<em> that had set alien hunt as a primary objective. Maybe he had expressed himself wrong, it was not ridiculous. It was _pathetic_.

He growled loudly when his feet sank into the swamp, but in spite of the obstacles, tried to run as fast as he could. It was the middle of the night, not even the moon shone in the sky and moreover in the darkness the humans' vision was nothing compared to his. He only needed a clever duck or a hiding place, but was unable to shake off the drones flying around, recording every helpless movement of his. He had had some of them taste his bullets, but as soon as one was shot out, was replaced by two. No matter how fond of human culture and American slang he was, his fingers felt a tingle to a little homicidal act, but his boss' orders still echoed sharply in his processor. The Autobots were not killers. He wasn't allowed to do so. What kind of nonsense was it?

He had been running for hours now and had to admit that contrary to the humans he already was getting tired, his whole body trembled. His processor could no longer control his circuits. He should just turn around and pull the trigger…

He was about to spring into action, didn't care if the act went against Prime's commands, when suddenly something grabbed him by his forearm and pulled him into a deep lake. Everything happened so very fast. He was barely able to understand that his systems were flooded by cold water—all kind of movement became difficult, almost impossible. For the first time in his life he got really scared—his alerts signal immediately switched on. He tried to free himself, but something…or rather someone prevented him. After such a long time his comm.-link finally received a message.

"_Be still. Rage and violence are allies that fool you, Crosshairs…"_

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><p><strong>AN: **Reviews are always welcome. (:

_-Sameen_


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